


Blank Slate, Blind Date

by mia kulpah (nina_monk)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nina_monk/pseuds/mia%20kulpah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Darcy Stark moves across country to live with her Dad, she finds the move tolerable only after she meets a new friend - Natasha Banner.  But both their Dad's seem so alone...surely there's no harm in secretly signing them up for a dating website, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blank Slate, Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seekingsquake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingsquake/gifts).



> Yes, this was supposed to be ready for the Science Bros Christmas Exchange but…I missed the deadline. Like, by almost month. Hospital stays, recovery, and sickness not withstanding. But it's finally here, at it's permanent home. Thank you, @seekingsquake, for the prompt!

**Darcy Stark: Age 13**

**Day 135**

_Dear Diary_

_Today was Dad’s birthday, but Mom wanted me at home, with her. It’s the first time Dad and Mom haven’t been together for one of Dad’s parties, and I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. Their divorce was just made official last week, and I think Mom’s afraid Dad might go a little crazy. I looked for him in one of the entertainment sections online, but there wasn’t much on him. No big party, just him and Uncle Rhodey going to a ski chalet up around Deer Valley.  Mom let me call him, but he seemed kind of sad. I guess that’s normal, right?_

**Day 172**

**Dear Diary**

_Mom and Dad have joint custody, but Mom thinks I should stay with her and not see Dad. I told her it wasn’t fair. She didn’t care. I hate her._

**Day 210**

_Dear Diary_

_Dad emailed me an open ended ticket, to use whenever I wanted, to visit him in New York. Mom doesn’t know. I’m afraid to use it, but if she makes me mad I MIGHT._

**Darcy Stark: Age 14**

**Day 260**

_Dear Diary_

_I turned 14 last week and I did something really, really stupid.I called Mom from the airplane, before she had enough time to scream and ground me for life, and before she could stop me from going. But I wonder if it was a really good idea? I wanted to spend some time with Dad,but I know now why she wanted to protect me. Dad’s different, and not in a great way. He was crying when he hugged me, and he smelled like that time he dropped that bottle of alcohol and it spilled all over his suit. But now his breath smells like that, and his beard. He’s still crying and drinking, but I took one of the guest rooms JARVIS prepared for me. I hope he’s okay tomorrow. Maybe it’s stress._

**Day 265**

_He yelled at me. He apologized almost as soon as he did, but he yelled. Not like, “Darcy, go to your room” but screamed. Shouted so loud his voice cracked. I was scared and ran to my room and told JARVIS to lock it, and Dad immediately said he was sorry. I called the airlines. I’m leaving tomorrow morning, while Dad’s still sleeping. He probably won’t be up until noon anyway._

**Darcy Stark, Age 16**

**Day 725**

_This is so fucking nuts. No, I haven’t written in this damn thing since that one day because I got it in my head that my diary was cursed. That was such bullshit. Ready for more bullshit? Dad’s sober now, right? And wants me to live with him since I’ve lived with Mom in Malibu all this time. He wants me in New fucking York. And Mom thinks it’s a great idea, but I don’t want to live with him now! All my friends are here!  This is bullshit!_

***

**September 9, 7:15am**

“Dad.”

“Hmmfph.”

“ _Dad_. You’re going to be _late_.”

“Mmfp. Time diff, honey. Got ‘nother hour. G’back t’bed.”

“No, there isn’t a time difference. Virginia and New York are in the same time zone.”

“Huhn?” Bruce Banner barely lifted his head from his pillow, and squinted at his daughter. “Wha?”

Natasha made a face at him and chewed her pierced lip. Bruce wasn’t fond of her strawberry red dye job or her _nouveau punk_ get up or whatever, but she needed to express her individuality. He got that. And since Betty died, well…like he said, he understood.

“You’re going to be late your first day of school - don’t you have to be there at 7:30?”

Bruce blinked blearily at her. “What time zit?”

“Seven-fifteen.”

“Oh. Oh _shit_ –”

“Exactly.”

Bruce threw off the covers and ran a hand through his mop of salt-and-pepper curls, desperately trying to gauge his bearings. “Coffee,” Natasha said, handing him a mug. He took a huge gulp and handed it back to her before rushing past. “Toast is in the bathroom, by your shaver,” she called to him. “You’ve got time to put on the suit you hung up last night, but it’s still wrinkled.”

“Not a problem,” he muttered. He took a bite of toast and swore as he nicked himself twice with the shaver. Dammit, he was late, _fucking_ late…Principal Fury was going to kill him. “Honey, hang the suit up in the shower, would ya? We’ll steam press it the old fashioned way.”

“You don’t have time for a shower,” she shouted, but she hung the suit on the back of the shower door anyway. “I’ll be in the car. You have ten minutes, but you’ll still be like fifteen minutes late. If you don’t shower, it’d be five–”

“I know honey. I–ow! Son of a _bitch_.” Another nick.

“Ten. Minutes.”

“Got it.”

She shut the door and he hustled out of his sweatpants, and jumped in the tub.

He bellowed when the shower water came out ice cold.

They’d moved in yesterday, and he’d sworn he’d set up the utilities last week. How did he miss the gas for the hot water?!

Great. There went his steam press plan.

***

**September 9, 7:45am**

“Darce.”

Darcy kept her scowl plastered on her face.

“Don’t give me that look. I used to get that look all the time from your mother, and I guarantee you, it was because I’d done something stupid. But living here with me, and going to this school’re all good things, you’ll see. Best college prep high school in the county, I checked. At this rate, you’ll get into Harvard.”

“At this rate I’ll rather slice my throat.”

Tony’s scowl now matched hers, and he put a hand on his daughter’s  arm before she wrestled for the car door. “Hey, none of that.” He wasn’t going to shout at her, because he knew he sort of pulled a dick move and she was paying for it. But he’d lost so much in such a short time; was it wrong to hope for some of those years back?

“Look, I know this is a different school, and everything’s new for you. I know you didn’t really want to come in the first place, and Pep…your _Mom_ and I thought it’d be good for you. But I really do think this move is good for both of us, y’know? To start fresh? Besides, weren’t you getting into sort of a rough crowd in M–”

“Fuck, Dad!” She finally exploded on him. “Those were my friends, my school– _you_ decided. You and Mom. And neither of you asked me!”

“Darcy–”

“No. Forget it.” She jumped out of the car and slammed the car door on him. “Let me be pissed,” she said, emulating what one of her therapists had told her, to express her feelings openly. “Just leave me alone.”

“Pick you up at 3:30?”

She huffed at him. “I’ll call you if I need you.”

Tony was about to say something else, when they both heard a loud thud, and a sudden flurry of papers flew up the front of the school steps. “Shit _shit_ shit _shit_ –”

The man with the potty mouth and the extremely rumpled suit began running around like a headless chicken, stuffing papers into a beat-up briefcase with a broken latch. A girl about Darcy’s age rolled her eyes and lamely helped gather a few of the papers. She gave the papers to the man then looked around, presumably to check if anyone saw.

Darcy checked over her shoulder while Tony shrugged at her. She in turn rolled her eyes and angrily tromped back up the steps, followed by the strawberry haired goth girl. Or was it punk–? Tony squinted. He couldn’t really tell.

“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Darcy does not need to be involved with that one.” Pepper told him she’d gotten in with the punks or whatever in Malibu, and started smoking pot. and drinking some. Sure, he probably was a little overprotective, but he didn’t want her following his path. He’d made major errors, and didn’t intend on making the same mistakes with his daughter.

Tony sighed a little and watched a beat longer as the father? Teacher? Tripped up the stairs again, and almost lost the contents of his briefcase. Again.

“Probably _his_ goth kid,” Tony muttered. He shook his head and pulled out of the drop-off lane.

***

**September 9, 7:55am**

“Doctor Banner.”

Bruce swallowed. Nicholas Fury had the ability to be imposing without…being imposing. Which made it ten times worse. Bruce fidgeted in Fury’s  office, and switched his briefcase handle from hand to hand. “I’m, ah, sorry. We were up a little late last night–”

“We?”

“Sorry. My daughter, Natasha and I. Our movers ended up reaching our apartment at midnight, and we didn’t get to sleep until maybe 3am, and I lost track of time, and–”

“Shh, shush.” Fury held up a hand and gave Bruce a small, deadly smile. “Not a huge deal. You missed the introduction of your fellow teachers, and your schedule for the term. But stop by the front office, and Mr. Coulson will help you get caught up. You can still introduce yourself, when you have time. But I wouldn’t make a habit of being late, Doctor Banner.”

“O-of course not, never will happen again,” Bruce stammered.

“I didn’t think it would.” Fury blinked - or maybe even winked - with his one good eye, and his grin grew. “Anything else is a habit, Doctor Banner. And that’s not the kind of habit I encourage at our school. So, you got your grace period.” He grinned again. “And note it: It’s the only one you’re gonna get.”

“G-got it.”

“Good, good. Just what I wanna hear.” He slapped Bruce on his back and kept his arm around his shoulder as he ushered him to his door. “Visit with Mr. Coulson. He’ll give you everything you need to get started. But, your class begins in a half hour.” He chuckled darkly. “Don’t be late.”

Despite the chuckle, Bruce determined to never be late again. Not unless he wanted to lose his job. Or perhaps receive a nice flogging from Pirate Captain Fury.

***

**September 9, 8:20am**

Darcy glanced over her clipboard of information, double-checking some of the details and unsure of others. She’d have to ask Dad about some of it. She thought he was supposed to take care of all the entrance stuff, but apparently the school needed more paperwork.

She glanced briefly to the side, at the other (apparently) new girl that she’d seen earlier; Darcy felt a little drawn to the girl’s extreme style - maybe because she emulated some of it herself. The new girl seemed confident enough in her paperwork answers, and looked to be nearly finished, but Darcy had barely finished half.

Opening her mouth to say something (what, she had no idea), she stopped when the rumpled klutzy guy from earlier ducked nervously into the office. He straightened when he saw New Girl, and gently kissed the top of her head before getting interrupted. New Girl barely acknowledged him.

Darcy kept watching.

“Ah, Doctor Banner. Nice of you to join us.”

“Sorry,” he said, ducking his head. “Had sort of a late start.”

“Come on back. I’m Vice Principal Coulson.” Mr.Coulson waved at him, and a buzzer sounded so he could go back among a sea of secretaries and students. “You missed orientation, but I can get you up to speed. Do you…need the name of a good dry cleaner?” Darcy heard. Coulson’s voice gradually trailed as they maneuvered through the sea of desks. “I’m sure we can find one…”

Their voices gradually disappeared as Coulson closed his office door. Darcy glanced at New Girl. “That your Dad?” She asked.

New Girl didn’t even look up from her paperwork. “It’d be pretty awkward if he wasn’t.”

“Yeah,” Darcy laughed, but New Girl kept her eyes on her paperwork. When the silence became a touch more awkward than she would’ve liked, Darcy cleared her throat. “I’m Darcy. Darcy Stark. I moved here from Malibu a few weeks ago, but this is Dad’s city. I sort of have to live with him - not that that’s a great thing, but whatever, and I–”

New Girl made an interrupting noise in her throat and put down her clipboard. “Natasha,” she said, holding out her hand. “Natasha Banner. And if you can shut up for just two minutes, I’ll be fine with hanging out later.”

Stunned, Darcy carefully took her hand and shook it. Staying quiet that long was tough (she definitely took after her dad in the gift of gab department) but she did it. And later, after the first day of class, Natasha made good on her promise.

***

**Darcy Stark, Age 16**

**Day 800**

_Dear Diary_

_So I haven’t talked much, but Natasha is probably my new bestie. School isn’t too bad I guess, and neither is New York. I’ve gotten used to it. I have Nat’s dad, Dr. Banner, for second period, and he’s pretty funny - although unintentionally, most days. She and I talked about how our dads seem pretty alone. My Dad never goes out anymore. He tinkers in his lab or in the garage, goes to board meetings, and travels, but…I think instead of drinking, work’s his new drug. I don’t think that’s healthy either. Nat’s Dad is sort of similar, from what she’s told me and from what I’ve seen. When I’ve come over her house to watch a movie or wharevs, Dr. Banner is always reading or taking notes, or grading papers. He’s lost in his own world, like those absent-minded professors people talk about. He barely acknowledges us, and he probably needs someone in his life too, to remind him life isn’t just about books and research._

_I think the plan Nat’s hatching will help._

***

**November 7, 7:15pm.**

“You really think this’ll work?” Darcy was pretty positive Nat knew what she was doing, but she had to say it anyway.

“Of course it will.” Nat completed a few finishing touches on her profile, then slid the laptop to Darcy. “Now, your turn.”

Darcy paused and reviewed Nat’s work first - no sense in reinventing the wheel, after all. “Your Dad’s only 5’8”? He seems taller.”

“It’s because he’s a teacher,” Nat said, matter-of-fact. “It’s a superpower of all teachers.” She was being funny, but like always her lip barely quirked when she joked.  “Come on, think of some positive things, and put them down. This website pretty much writes out the paragraphs for you - you just have to put in the adjectives.”

She made a face. She wasn’t sure if “Blank Slate, Blind Date” was the best dating profile website around, but she was willing to try it. Especially since it bragged that it only took five minutes to create a profile, and the dates were supposedly “guaranteed” (with at least six months’ worth of service). What made it really unique was no one saw anyone’s picture until they were absolutely ready to commit to a first date (and pay the first subscription fee installment). Nat said it was the best website, mostly because it relied on the heart, rather than on outward appearances.

“My Dad’s kind of arrogant,” she said slowly. “And showy.”

“That’s two.”

“But that’s not anything good to put down, Nat!”

Natasha shrugged. “Why not? I mean, why put all positive things down? That’s false advertising. Look, I put down shy, scatterbrained, and reclusive for three of my adjectives, but I also put down intelligent, honest, and kind.” She pointed at the blanks on the website. “See? It’s actually asking for weaknesses and strengths here. So it’s okay to put down arrogant and showy. Just find some good things to say.”

Darcy realized then, that she’d been a little harsh. Her Dad was okay. He really was. He just…loved. Too much. And sometimes that was a problem, especially when she wanted to do her own thing. “Okay,” she muttered. “Arrogant, egotistical and showy. For the bad.”

“What about the good?”

“Rich…?”

Nat shook her head. “That’s neutral. I’d find something better. Like, Mr. Stark donates to a lot of charities, right? Philanthropic. That should be one of your adjectives.”

“Hm,” Darcy said, finally nodding. She ended up using about six good and six…less favorable adjectives, same as Nat. And along with loving, she also chose kind. Because despite it all, her Dad really was a kind man, in his own way.

But she turned beet red when she got near to the end. “Uhh…I’m not…exactly sure I can answer this one.” Nat looked over, and hummed low in her throat. “I’m not sure I want to guess, either.”

Nat turned the laptop back around to her. “You can leave it blank, if you want,” she said. “My Dad’s bisexual.”

Darcy’s jaw dropped. “He actually _told_ you?”

“Mm-hm,” she  murmured. As if it were nothing. As if it was something she and Dr. Banner talked about all the time. Darcy made a face and shivered. “He said it one day, when we talked about Mom.” A small frown creased her ebony-tinted lips. “He probably wasn’t in his right mind at the time, but I think he would’ve told me anyway. Eventually.”

“What do you mean, ‘not in his right mind’? What kind of mind–”

“Here,” Nat interrupted. She turned the laptop back to Darcy. “Everything looks pretty good. I think you should make your Dad’s orientation bisexual anyway. He might be more or less, but he can decide for himself once he looks at all his potentials.”

“He’s gonna kill me.”

“No, he won’t.” Nat threw a hand over Darcy’s shoulder. “He’ll be thanking you after a while. Sometimes our Dads need the ‘push’, y’know?”

“Yeah…” Darcy trailed. She wasn’t 100% sure, but, maybe she’d only be grounded for one century, instead of two.

“Perfect,” Natasha said when they finished. Darcy put in some approximations of her Dad’s height - sometimes he seemed taller, sometimes shorter, depending on who he was meeting that day - but Nat said it was all right. “It’s for them anyway,” she’d said.

Darcy nervously licked her lips. “When should we tell them?”

Nat almost smiled. “Let’s wait a few weeks, let them build up enough options. They’ll be too curious not to check, once they see that they’ve got people interested in them.”

“Girls–? Pizza’s here–!”

“Be right down, Dad!” Natasha yelled back. She patted Darcy’s lap. “It’ll work,” she said. “Trust me.”

Darcy sighed. She’d only known Nat for a couple months, but so far everything she’d said had been more or less right. Now, though, she guessed they just had to wait it out, until they were ready to tell their respective Dads.

***

**November 22, 6:15pm**

“You _what_?”

He hadn’t meant for his voice to snap or to be so sharp, but he couldn’t believe his ears. He wiped some of the sweat pouring from his brows with the back of his hand and threw his wrench on his workstation with a loud clatter. Darcy normally knew not to interrupt him when he was in the middle of working on his sports cars, but he was glad this time. Because _this_ …oh, boy. Oh- _fucking_ -boy.

Darcy had scrunched back and Tony counted to ten in his head before trying again. Pepper always did say he was too hot-headed. “Okay, Darcy,” he sighed. “Okay. Tell it to me one more time. Slowly. You–?” He prompted, waving his hand impatiently.

“Signed you up for a dating website.”

Tony tightly squeezed his eyes, as if suffering through a tension headache. “And _why_?”

“Because you’re stressed out–!” Darcy’s sharp bark caught him a little by surprise. “If you’re not working at the office, you’re traveling, or coming down here. It’s been over two years, Dad - don’t you think you deserve someone new in your life?”

He sighed heavily and leaned against his workstation, while running a hand over his brow. “Darcy, fine, I appreciate the sentiment. But I don’t need the help.” He glanced up, somewhat hurtfully. “Is it because I’m not paying enough attention to you? Did I miss a stop on the adult train, or something? You missin’ your Mom?”

“No!”

And damn, if she didn’t look about five years old, when he told her she couldn’t have another piece of candy. It was almost adorable.

Almost.

“Dad, just…” She sighed angrily at him. “Just look at it, okay? If it’s not what you want, then you can delete your profile.”

He ran his hands over his scruffy cheeks. “God. Please don’t tell me you signed me up for Eharmony.”

“No, it’s Blank Slate, the blind date website.”

Tony grunted. Well, at least his face wasn’t plastered all over the internet then. Again.That was one point in his daughter’s favor. “Okay. That’s…less terrible.” He made another face. “You didn’t use my real name, did you?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “How dumb do you think I am? Of course I didn’t. And the website only asks for your real name when you’re ready to pay. After you connect.”

“And at least it’s free,” he muttered lowly. Sighing, Tony opened his arm, and motioned for Darcy to come over. Then he hugged her in the crook of his arm.

“Ew. You smell like axle grease.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t smear you with it,” he snorted. He kissed the top of her head.

“So you’re not mad?”

“Irked, maybe. But I also feel a little…special, that my daughter took such an interest in my love life. So I’m thanking you, begrudgingly. But don’t blame me if I come home with some biker chick with multiple piercings.”

She laughed a little, and rubbed his greasy arm. “You…might want to look over the application. There were a few things  I wasn’t sure of.”

“Oh? Hair color? Naturally black, thanks. We won’t talk about the gray.”

“Height?”

Tony smirked a little. “Yeah. okay. You caught me. I’m a little shy of 5’10”, but sometimes I wear lifts in my shoes. To give the impression of being just a hair taller than the competition. Your mother thought it was stupid, too, but it’s my vain side showing.” He could probably change that part of himself, but he probably wouldn’t, so he quickly went on to her next hiccup.

“What else?”

Darcy nibbled her lip and Tony let her think it through. It had to be a doozy, if she wasn’t speaking up right away. “Um. Orientation.”

“Orientation?” He repeated. “You mean where we live, or…um.”

“The um bit.”

“ _That_ orientation?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah.”

Sighing, he kissed the top of her head. “Let me preface what I’m about to say, by saying I loved your Mom. Very much. It just wasn’t in either of us to stay together, but my orientation had nothing to do with it, okay? I loved your Mom just like I would’ve loved anyone else.”

Darcy turned in his arms, to look up at him. “So…you’re not straight?”

He both shrugged in apology and shook his head. “Nope. Hate to break it to you. I’m an equal opportunity employer.” He eyed her critically. “That change anything between us?”

“No.” Darcy was smiling at him, actually smiling. Not one of her half-teenage smirks, either. “I put bisexual on your application, because Natasha thought it’d be easier to filter. Just in case.”

“Ah hah. So this is _Natasha’s_ hair-brained scheme. Shoulda figured that one.” He knew she’d be trouble. Tony sighed inwardly. Well, he supposed it could’ve been worse. At least it wasn’t pot. But the idea cemented itself in his head, that he’d have to have words with her father someday. Not to say Natasha Banner would steer his daughter wrong, but…his daughter did have a tendency to follow the odd and wild crowd.

“Daddy. Stop it.  She cares, too.”

Tony held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rag on your friends.”

Darcy dug in her heels. “I _like_ Nat, Dad. Out of the entire school, she and I click - and it’s not because we both got there at the same time. So leave her alone.”

“Sheesh, I said I was sorry.” He huffed as poutily as he could, to mimic his daughter’s teenaged angst - enough to diffuse the tension. And it worked; Darcy groaned and rolled her eyes at him.

“Just…be nice.”

“Got it.” He would, as long as his daughter didn’t come home with tattoos and new piercings. Not like that Banner kid. Although he didn’t know if she had tattoos. She looked like she might. “So now what, fruit of my loins?”

“Now,” Darcy said patiently, “you start looking for _dates_.” Tony snickered; she really, really wanted this for him. So, okay, maybe he was a touch curious, to see what this crazy “Blank Slate” site thought he liked. He also wanted to know exactly what his daughter said about him in his profile. Because he had a feeling he had lots of changes to make.

“All right, all right. You win,” he cried. He clutched his chest as she snaked out from his arm. “Go order us a pizza, and I’ll look. _Look_ , mind you. No promises.”

She beamed and kissed his cheek. “Good luck, Dad,” she said, heading from his garage. “And be good!”

He sniffed when she left. He could be good. Maybe not all the time, but he was good when he needed to be.

But he had a feeling he’d have more fun making fun of the other profiles.

***

**November 22, 6:20pm**

“Hm? Did you say something, honey?” Bruce was nose-deep in a college dissertation.  He didn’t work at college campuses full-time these days, but reviewing dissertations helped supplement some of the income loss. He realized he must have missed his child’s answer when he saw three fingers curling ‘round the top of the paper, like spider’s legs.

“I said,” Natasha said patiently. “That I signed you up for a website.”

He blinked at her and pulled down his reading glasses so he could see if she was joking with him, or not. “You…what now?”

“A website,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. She looked very much like her mother when she adopted such a pose, and a small pang tugged at Bruce’s throat. “Specifically, a dating website.”

“Y–” The words stuck in Bruce’s throat, and he blinked rapidly, as if the dining room lights were suddenly too bright. “I…I’m sorry. I thought you said–”

“I did,” she continued, and her eyes never left his. “Dad. I was seven when Mom died, and you’ve been celibate all this time, throwing yourself into your work like crazy, and _other_ people’s work.” She tapped the dissertation. “Don’t you think it’s time to get back in the world? Don’t you think it’s time you stop punishing yourself for–”

He stood up quickly. “Stop.” His growl was soft and low, and all the more dangerous for it. “You know we don’t talk about that. _Ever_.” Natasha flinched a bit at his tone. Although the argument was a very old one, it exposed him, like a twitching nerve, and placed his bad temper at center stage.

Bruce rubbed a shaky hand over his brow. “I’m sorry. I’m being mean.”

Natasha refused to say anything until Bruce humbly returned to his chair. He stared morosely at the table and scrubbed his fingers through his thick curls. God, he was an absolute failure as a father. Sometimes he wondered why Natasha didn’t just–

A small squeeze tugged his shoulder.  “Just…try it,” Natasha whispered. “It’s not dishonoring Mom’s memory. She would’ve wanted you to go on, Dad. To be _happy_.”

He nodded, but didn’t look up. Eventually she left him there. Bruce sighed heavily and ran another hand through his hair. Maybe she was right; maybe he he’d been doing her a disservice, by not considering another nearby female influence in her life. He was happy she found at least one friend - he feared she’d end up alone - but an adult woman was probably crucial at her age. Or so he’d been told.

Well…He shook his head after another small sigh. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check the goddamn website.  

***

**November 25th, 7:02am**

**Friday**

Bruce instinctively woke as he naturally did without the alarm, which was a few minutes after “frightfully late” on a school day. It was sad, in a way. He couldn’t sleep in if he wanted to, because he was so neurotic about being late for work, no thanks to Fury’s lecture. To be fair the man really was okay - honest, but firm - and Bruce’s own insecurities were what made things awkward. But regardless of the day, even on weekends, his body was bound and determined to betray him.

“Dad–I’m going out with Darcy for Black Friday,” he heard. Which was more her telling him than asking for permission. “Aunt Jen’s coming with.”

Well, that was a little better.It really was good that Jen came up to enjoy Thanksgiving with him and Natasha. It had only been the three of them, but Jen’s extraversion more than made up for Bruce’s introversion - especially since he and Natasha were still on a bit of rocky ground since his outburst a few days ago.

“Ah, okay,” Bruce called back, his voice still rusty from sleep. “See you around lunchtiime?”

“Dinner,” Jen shouted back. “See you, Bruce!”

“Okay,” he repeated, but mostly to himself, since he heard the door slam before cobbling a response.

Sighing, he rolled to a sitting position, then scrubbed his cheeks with his hands, contemplating what he wanted to do until dinner. He tried his best to keep up appearances during the holidays but it got harder every year. Every year it became a bigger wrestling match with his depression, and some days, like today, like _now_ , he wanted to disappear into past sins and just…stay there. He really feared what he would become when Natasha left for college. But it wasn’t fair of him to put that on her. Never would be. So he trudged forward. Ever forward.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. But he still didn’t move from the bed.

His ears suddenly picked up a quiet chirp pinging around the walls of his bedroom. It took him a few seconds to recognize his own cell phone, but at least it forced him to get out of bed and check his desk for it.

“Hm.”

He stared at the message from his daughter: _Blankslatedate.com dad. Login, DocGreenThumb. Password–_

He chuckled. “All right, all right.” He knew a losing battle when he saw one. Besides, it would make Natasha happy if he tried, at least.

***

**December 10, 4:18pm**

**Saturday**

Tony smirked a little at the droll response from “DocGreenThumb.” on the Blank Slate forums. Somehow he’d wandered into the “With Kids” portion of the Blank Slate forums after finding painfully few dating prospects. Seriously, was it all about the hookups with these people? Not that he minded the occasional hookup, sure, (he had no trouble in that department) but at this stage of his life he’d rather meet someone who appreciated other options, not just a booty call.

“Go get ‘em, Doc.”

Watching the forums had become a far more interesting past time with the inclusion of DocGreenThumb (aka, DGT). DGT’’d already been in three “discussions” with an antivaxxer, an anti-feminist, and a global warming denier,  and he’d taken all three to church with logical, well-crafted debates.

Today’s discussion was apparently all about how the US complicated situations in third world countries, when they stuck their noses in without understanding the culture first.

“Hmm.” Tony wasn’t sure if he agreed with the last point DGT made, though. Not thinking twice,  he checked to see if DGT was online, then he logged into the PM system and pinged him.

**[Iron_Giant]** : _Not that you have to respond or anything, but I have a few questions for you, Doc._

It took a few minutes before DGT responded, but surprisingly he did.

**[DocGreenThumb** ]: _Oh? Are you as confused as AmericanDad?_

Tony chuckled a little. DGT was definitely in schooling someone’s ass mode.

**[Iron_Giant]** _: Actually I agree with most of what you wrote. But don’t you think the west has an obligation to fulfill their social contract with the majority of the world? That richer nations should share their wealth with poorer countries?_

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _That depends on what’s expected in return, and to whom the money goes. In many ways the West have made critical errors and damaged economies beyond return, worse than if they’d not given anything at all._

Hm. Tony nodded. They agreed along those lines, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have global contracts of his own.

**[Iron_Giant]** _: Well, let’s say an independent donor circumvents the warlords and build up the infrastructure using the nation’s leaders. Do you think that would work best?_

**[DocGreenThumb]** _: Not necessarily. It depends on who’s in power at the time, and whether they have their country’s best interests at heart._

Tony rolled his eyes.

**[Iron_Giant]:** _With those kinds of stipulations, we’re judging to see if a nation is worthy of our donations or not. How is that any better?_

And thus began a three hour “discussion” of third-world politics versus western responsibility that Tony actually didn’t mind. He and DGT didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye on everything, but he could definitely see them talking about other things, in the future. DGT had a good, solid mind, and Tony appreciated finding someone who could not only keep up with him, but also gave him stuff to think about.

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _Shit. What time is it?_

**[Iron_Giant]:** _I’m Eastern Time Zone, so it’s a little after 7pm._

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _Same. Daughter and her friend are coming over for dinner. Thought I’d order pizza. Need to call the place._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _If you were in Manhattan I’d say order Una’s._

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _Harlem-ish, actually. Probably order from King’s._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Another excellent choice._

And it was weird; Tony actually felt a little sullen when Doc Green signed off; it’d been awhile since he’d had a stimulating conversation with someone who wasn’t trying to kiss his ass. He wanted more, he knew that much. Maybe Doc Green wasn’t his type, and maybe he never would be. But a friend? Yeah. He could use more of those.

***

**December 24, 11:46pm**

Bruce’s hands froze, hovering above the keyboard. “What am I doing?” He muttered to himself. He shook his head and then dug his palms into his eyes. He should sign off. It was late.

Instead his fingers began moving on their own.

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _My wife died in a car accident. My fault, really - we’d been arguing and I took my eyes off the road when a semi was nudging into our lane. Clipped us just right. We rolled. I made it, she didn’t._

He swallowed at the length of time it took Iron Giant ( _really_? That name?) to respond, but he supposed it made sense, once a bomb like that dropped. For some reason he hoped it wouldn’t ruin their…whatever this was. Friendship? Pen-pals? What was the proper term in the digital age, anyway?

**[Iron_Giant]:** _I’m sorry._

Bruce hastily typed something, to play it off.

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _It was ten years ago. It’s ok now._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Still sticks with you, though. Grief takes time to process._

Bruce snorted. Ten years’ worth? He shook his head. He kept holding her ghost in his heart. Even now it felt like he was cheating on her, in some sense. Even though he didn’t know this man. Or only knew him for a few weeks. Sighing, Bruce shook the thought from his head; it really wasn’t cheating. They were growing a friendship.

On a dating website.

He nibbled his lip. So maybe that part was a little different.

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _I think my daughter’s ready for me to move on. Hence her getting me signed up on here._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Doesn’t mean you have to move on._

Bruce paused, blinking a bit too rapidly, and he felt the pain of it stinging the corners of his eyes. Right now, in this conversation with whoever this stranger-turned-friend was, he got what Natasha was trying to do. Maybe he was ready. Ready to release her at last.

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _It sort of feels like it’s time, though. My daughter’s been beyond a trooper through all of it. Some days she had to take care of me, instead of the other way around. When I lost Elizabeth I drank to blot the pain. I’d black out and find myself in strange places. I had horrible temper outbursts. Even lost my job at the university. And it was nothing a young girl should ever put up with_

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _I’m sorry. This…God. I never talked to anyone about this shit. Sorry I unloaded._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Don’t be. Similar boat. When my wife and I divorced, I crawled into the bottle and stayed there for a long while. And I damaged a lot of my father-daughter time. I think she’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, though I’ve been sober for a few years now._

Bruce let out a shuddering breath. He’d meant to delete what he’d written but he’d sent it by mistake. Maybe Freudian of him, but…he was glad he did, now. Especially now, with another who sort of understood.

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _We’ve got a few things in common after all._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _That we do - hey, doc. Guess what?_

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _What_?

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Merry Christmas. Or Happy Festivus, if you go that route._

Bruce laughed and wiped some of the moisture from his cheek.

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _Yeah. Merry Christmas._

***

**December 31, 10:15am**

Tony made a face.

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Really? Alone? That kinda sucks._

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _Not really. I can’t stand all the crowds and the false promises of a new year. Call me a hermit, but I enjoy staying at home and watching the festivities on TV, from the comfort of home._

**[Iron_Giant]** _: Ok, you’re a hermit. Hell, is your daughter going to be with you, at least?_

**[DocGreenThumb]** _: No. She and a friend are going to a party. It’s supposed to be a safe environment, though, and I trust her._

Tony shook his head warily.

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Better get the name and number of the parent hosting it. I’m still wary of mine. She got into trouble a bit before coming to live with me, so if she goes to parties it’s either one of mine that has a well-chaperoned, separate venue for teens or kids of my employees, or I know that kid’s parent like the back of my hand._

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _Seems a little overprotective._

**[Iron_Giant]** _: I don’t think so, not in this day and age. But that’s my kid; once she proves she’s responsible, I let out the slack. Bit by bit._

**[DocGreenThumb]** _: Isn’t it easier to just trust her first? Then, if she screws up, it won’t be out of rebellion. It’s easier to talk through issues that way, I find._

Tony felt his temper rise a bit. Was this guy trying to tell him how to raise his kid?

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Look, you do you, okay? Your kid’s probably crazy responsible, with what all she did for you. But I don’t have that same clearance with mine. So yeah, I don’t really go for that hippie-dippy parenting nonsense._

There was a long pause, and Tony swore softly between his teeth - he’d just done the same ugly thing back. Hypocrite, much?

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _Sorry I overstepped._

Tony could practically feel the man bristling behind the monitor and suddenly felt bad.

**[Iron_Giant]:** _No, I’m overreacting. It’s what I do. My mouth gets me into trouble, always did. I can be an impulsive, insensitive jerk, according to my ex._

**[DocGreenThumb]:** _No worries._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Seriously, once I get going, one foot then the other goes in my mouth-hole. It’s a talent. Pepper said it was a talent._

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _Pepper? Was that the name of your ex?_

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Nickname. It suited her, though. She had…has. Still has a lot of freckles, peppering her entire body. Hence the nickname. Once played connect-the-dots on her shoulder and made an impromptu Big Dipper._

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _That’s pretty cute, actually._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Yeah_.

Tony swallowed. Maybe…maybe this was the right time. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe this wouldn’t go anywhere, or maybe it would. He really didn’t know. But like he said, he wasn’t exactly known for his tact. Just his impulsiveness. So -

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Listen, I know you’re alone tonight, but if you want to, my company’s holding a New Years’ party. You’re welcome to come. Just say the word._

Long pause. Very long pause. And at the last minute, Tony realized it’d be the first time they’d be allowing anything really telling out, and here he’d practically asked the guy out on a date. Tony licked his lips. Was he…? Was that the truth? He thought about it in his mind, faster than the Doc typed a response, and Tony slowly nodded. He’d seen the other man’s profile; they’d probably both read each other's’ profiles by now (or if not, the Doc was probably reading his profille, right now). They were both ok with dating men. Looks? Well, that’s what the blind date thing was all about.

Tony swallowed and sat back in his chair, and steepled his fingers. He already liked the guy, liked how he thought, and there was some kind of something brewing between them. He knew it. He felt it. All he needed was confirmation, for the Doc to say–

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _No_.

Tony’s heart sank.

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _I mean…not tonight. Holidays are too flashy. Emotions get caught up in holiday hype. Things aren’t…they aren’t real. And I want…whatever to be real. And frank. So let me ask up front: Is this a date, or just some pity thing, or a friend thing? I want to be sure. I don’t want any mixed signals._

Tony let out a shaky breath. “Blunt and honest, aren’t you?” He chuckled a little awkwardly. “Okay, then. In for a penny and all that,” he thought, making his decision.

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Originally? I was thinking as friends. But y’know what? I’m okay if it’s something else, or…whatever_.

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _Whatever_?

**[Iron_Giant]** : _You really want me to spell it out? Okay, yes. I like you. I want to know more about you, Doc. And I want to call you something other than “Doc.” So maybe not tonight. But I’d like to meet you. Sometime._

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _Then okay. That’s…okay. Okay?_

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Bunsen burner got your tongue?_

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _Be nice, I’m out of practice. And Robert._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _What_?

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _My real name is Robert._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Gotcha. Nice to meet you, Robert. I’m Anthony. And January 8th._

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _Pardon_?

**[Iron_Giant]:** _That’s when we should meet, January 8th, a full week after the holidays. For coffee?_

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _I’d like that, Anthony. I know this place in Manhattan, a little quiet hole-in-the wall. Best coffee, awesome donuts. It’s not famous yet._

**[Iron_Giant]:** _Sounds like my kind of place. Send me a link? Meet you at 9am?_

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _Wait. how will we recognize each other?_

**[Iron _Giant]** : _Mm, good question. Put on a red tie; no one wears a red tie in the morning. Sound good?_

[ **DocGreenThumb** ]: _Perfect_.

**[Iron Giant]** : _Great. See you at 9._

***

**January 8th, 7:35am,Sunday**

“Dad - for the fifth time, quit fidgeting!”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce knotted his fingers in his hands. Natasha resisted swatting his nervous hand-wringing because her hands were currently busy trimming his curls. Normally he would’ve gone to his regular barber but Natasha could cut his hair almost as well as Rick could. Besides, he’d waited too long for an appointment, and it was too late - he needed something now. His hair was about as in control as his life, if he were painfully honest with himself.

“Don’t be sorry. Just…take deep breaths. It’ll be fine. Maybe even fun.”

Bruce almost choked on his laugh. “I don’t even know the guy, Natasha. For all I know, he could be a thief, or an ax murderer, or–”

She laughed and pulled one of his curls, only to clip it. “From what you’ve said, he sounds perfect for you.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because I’ve never seen you this nervous over anyone before. And you’ve got great instincts. It’s obvious something clicked with him; otherwise, you wouldn’t have bothered getting a haircut.”

“And…you really don’t care that I’m not going out with a woman–?”

“Not at all.” She sweetly kissed the top of his head, to emphasize her point.

Bruce smirked a little. “I’m still unsure of one thing.”

“What?”

“How’d a screw up like me got such a perfect daughter.”

Natasha wasn’t one for overly demonstrating her love, but she squeezed his shoulder and brushed the stray hairs from his neck. “All done,” she murmured.

Bruce kissed her cheek. “So am I ready for Hollywood?”

“Mm, I wouldn’t go that far. Presentable, though? Yes. Very much so.”

He sighed, then kissed his daughter on the cheek. “I guess I’ll head down there, then.”

“Make sure you get the 8:05 train, and not the 8:15,” she said quickly, almost as if she were worried for him.“If you get the 8:15–”

“I know, I’ll be late.” He sighed and grabbed his satchel and his overcoat. “If you don’t hear from me in two hours, call the police.”

“Go, already,” Natasha told him, and Bruce couldn’t help it; he saw so much of her mother in that moment that it made him wistful and made him wonder if he was doing the right thing. She needed a mother, didn’t she? Wasn’t that what girls her age wanted?

He felt a sudden shove and chuckled as he felt himself propelled toward the door. “Now, Dad!”

He finally heeded her advice, still wondering in the back of his mind if any of this was a good idea.

***

**January 8th, 8:25am, Sunday**

“So? How do I look?”

Darcy made a face. “You’re really wearing sneakers with a suit–?”

“Sure, why not?”

Tony glanced quickly in Darcy’s vanity mirror and fixed one stray hair. “It sort of completes the package, y’know? And It’s not exactly a suit. I’m wearing jeans.”

“With a vest. And a dress shirt. And a tie.”

“See? Totally not a suit.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and moaned deep in her throat while flopping back on her bed. “I guess so,” she said. “But I wouldn’t doubt it if this guy goes running from the hills at your fashion sense.”

“Nah. He doesn’t seem the type.” He threw a wink over his shoulder. “Hug for luck?”

“Since when did you ever need a hug for luck?” But she crawled out of the bed anyway, and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Knock it out of the park, Dad.”

He kissed her forehead. “Will do, honey badger.”

“Ugh, Dad! Don’t call me that. You haven’t called me that since I was seven.”

“Honey bear? Bearly there? Polar–”

She socked him on the shoulder to make him stop. “Go already!”

“All right, all right.” He smiled softly. It’d been a rough transition, but she was finally getting into the groove of her new life okay. Enough so that Tony thought that maybe she’d finally forgiven him. At least a little bit.

“I’m gone,” he told her, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t wait up.” He took a deep breath and headed out, confident in that whatever happened, it’d still be one interesting ride.

***

**January 8th, 9:11am, Sunday**

Bruce tugged his bow tie for the third or fourth time.  His fault for catching the 8:15 after picking up a bagel - but his stomach had growled so loudly, he didn’t think he’d be any decent company, and then he realized at the last minute that of course the coffee shop had pastries and donuts, and now he was ten minutes late going on eleven–

_Calm down_. He took purposeful, deep breaths to center himself. _Calm down. If he’s not here it’s not meant to be._

At the last second he remembered his and Anthony’s agreement to “wear a red tie” to recognize one another, but “red” was so subjective - and he didn’t have a bright red tie. His closest was a maroon, nearly brown bow tie, but it would have to do.  And he didn’t have time to buy another. So.

He glanced briefly around, but didn’t see anyone with a red tie. Which sort of helped his anxiety, but also let him down; was it worth the risk to his ego to stay a few more minutes–?

“Hey, Banner, isn’t it? Doctor Banner? From Shield Academy? And Natasha’s Dad.”

Bruce jumped at the shoulder tap. “Um, yes?”

He turned, noticing one of his student’s father’s. No, not just any student, his daughter’s best friend - Darcy’s father. _Right_. Bruce sighed silently.  He didn’t dislike the man, per se, but his legendary showman’s antics in the papers had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Didn’t mean to bug you.. I was waiting for someone, but they bailed on me. Nice to see a familiar face, though. So, my kid doing ok in your class? Never mind. I’ll ask her myself.”

“Mm,” Bruce murmured. Stark was babbling, which he wondered if it was an inherited trait, since Darcy often…

_Oh_.

He blinked. Mr. Stark’s tie…was red. Bright, Barnum and Bailey red against a black, silk shirt tucked behind a vest that surely cost more than a month of his salary.

Stark. Was wearing. A Red. Tie.

Bruce couldn’t help it; he began chuckling, and then laughing so hard he couldn’t stop. He suddenly hunched forward with his hands on his knees, unable to stop his fits of giggles.

“Wow, okay,” Stark said, clearly stunned. He moved to whack Bruce on the back as if he were choking. “Are you okay? Do you need some water? A medical doctor? A therapist–?”

Bruce held up his hand. “No, no,” he wheezed. He took a larger breath and calmed down, then pointed to his tie. “I only had maroon.”

It took maybe a nanosecond before Stark got it, then his jaw dropped. “Holy cats _\- you’re_ Doc Green?”

Bruce took another breath and straightened up. “In the thumb.” He nodded to Stark. “Iron Giant?”

Tony half nodded, and half shook his head. “Well ain’t this a kick in the shitter.”

“Indeed,” Bruce said, but a small grin pinked his features. “Heh. Looks like we got the tougher, getting-to-know-you part out of the way without knowing it, huh?”

***

**January 8th, 9:18am, Sunday**

Tony still found himself reeling as they found a table and grabbed their coffees - no one in recent memory had so completely snowballed him. Although to be fair, he felt like they’d catfished each other, in some weird way.

“So…you really had no idea who I was?”

“Not a clue,” Banner said, eyeing him over his coffee cup. He took his coffee just like he did; two sugars, heavy cream. “Though in retrospect, I suppose we could’ve figured it out on our own. Two daughters, both setting us up on this website at the same time, living in the same general area–”

“C’mon,” Tony said, sitting back in his seat. He watched Banner’s fingers twitching around his mug, but refused to admit how very attractive those hands were. “You know the statistical odds of it being you and I were off the charts, considering the number of people in New York City. This meeting feels like a set up.”

“And yet how could it be?” Banner placed his cup on his saucer with a polite “click.” “Statistics or not, Anthony, I didn’t initiate our meeting.”

Tony sighed heavily. “No, you didn’t. I guess if anyone had a right to call ‘foul’ it’d be you.” He grabbed his mug and slurped loudly from it. “And no,” he continued, “I didn’t set you up, either. And Tony, please. ‘Anthony’ is for sainted aunts twice removed and my ridiculously formal board members.”

“Oh,” Banner said, and Tony swore he saw the corners of the man’s lips crinkle as he held his hand out to him - which was kind of cute, not that that meant anything. “Then feel free to call me Bruce. I use my middle name.”

Tony chuckled and warmly shook his hand. Bruce’s grip was firm, but not forced, as if trying to prove his manliness. Tony hated those kinds of handshakes. “ _Bruce_. Nice to meet you, Bruce Banner.”

“Likewise, Tony Stark.”

***

**January 8th, 9:18am, Sunday**

Bruce honestly thought their conversation would have ended with the revelations, but Tony had the gift of a silver tongue (and now he knew where Darcy got it from). Bruce found it oddly comforting, actually; Tony didn’t necessarily talk to take up space but he talked intently, as if trying to decipher and unlock the secrets of the man sitting across from him. If it were anyone else, Bruce would’ve  been somewhat annoyed. But Tony seemed genuinely interested, which piqued his curiosity…even when the conversation turned more personal.

“Yes,” Bruce said a bit stiffly. “I am perfectly aware of  Natasha’s attire choices. Do I agree with them? Not necessarily. But those were her decisions to make.”

Tony shook his head. “But the lip piercing? You don’t think that takes it too far? What would’ve happened if she got it, then decided she didn’t like it?”

Bruce let a small grin inch across his face. He removed his glasses and polished them absently. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he told Tony. “It’s not as cut and dry as that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Bruce said, sighing softly. “That before she makes a major choice to alter her appearance, I ask her to really weigh out the pros and cons for me, in the form of a research paper. It’s up to her to fact check all the physical, societal, and emotional issues, and she has to decide for her herself if it’s worth putting together a thesis for me. And then, based on the information she digs up, she has to determine whether or not it’s worth her time to make such a change. Also, if I don’t think she’s done enough thorough research I make her write it over.

“So, by the time she’s done all of that and reviewed the pros and cons for herself, she’s ready to make an informed decision. And I’ll abide by whatever decision she makes.”

“Jesus.” Tony snorted out a laugh and shook his head. “That’s…pretty brilliant.”

He smiled again, softer. “It only works because Natasha likes reading and researching her favorite topics anyway; these days she just hands me her paper and tells me to read it, and get back with her on it the next day.” He chuckled, thinking about how detailed her lip piercing thesis had been. “Natasha’s a really good kid. Smarter than I give her credit for, and despite appearances she has a strong moral compass.”

“Which is good for Darcy too,” Tony admitted. He gazed into his cup, and Bruce found himself wishing he’d stare back up at him, just to disappear into his eyes again–

He bit back a shiver and internally berated himself for thinking such thoughts. It was coffee; just coffee..

“Darcy got into some trouble back in Malibu, with some of the partying kids. Pepper and I decided it might be time for her to come live with me until she finished high school.”

“I bet she hated that.”

“Oh, you don’t know the holy hell of it,” Tony said. Bruce swore he stopped breathing when Tony took his eyes off his mug, to look at him again. “I didn’t even recognize half the swears she called me that week.”

Bruce laughed and held up his coffee mug. “To teenagers.”

“To teenagers,” Tony agreed, clinking his cup against Bruce’s. Bruce waited until Tony drained his mug before tilting his head. “One last question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why ‘Iron Giant’?”

Tony’s laugh was hearty and full, and sent warmth throughout Bruce’s entire body. And yes, he knew was in trouble already.

“Oh, God. _Darcy_ …it was her favorite movie as a kid, and it probably had something to do with me singing the song ‘Iron Man’ to her when she started acting up in her crib. If she had trouble sleeping, I’d hum a few riffs off that song, and it’d put her right out.”

Bruce snorted. “And here I was thinking it had something to do with your businesses.”

“Nah. We’ve been out of the war and ironmonger business for years now. Mostly deal with software and robotics now, and the occasional clean energy project - that’s Pepper’s baby. Hell, the whole company’s Pepper’s baby now.”

“You’re not the CEO?”

Tony shrugged. “Pepper took over the company when I went off the rails, but she’s damned good at it. I’m more or less the company’s ‘visionary’. I steer, she makes it happen.”

“I see.” Admittedly,all the stories he’d heard about Stark pertained to that same time when  or a little after his divorce. So perhaps he shouldn’t be judged so harshly–

“Bruce…”

“Hm?” He stared at the dregs in his mug, debating if he could get away with a third cup.”

“Would you…I mean, do you think–”

Bruce glanced up, wondering why Tony was suddenly tongue-tied.

Tony’s laugh was aborted and nervous, and not at all like him, which made Bruce freeze.“I suck at this, so I’m gonna come right out and say it: I like… _this_ ,” he said, gesturing between the two of them. “And I’d like it to continue. With more. How ‘bout a second date?”

Bruce blinked, almost too surprised to answer. He’d been hoping, but hadn’t been sure, hadn’t even thought–

“Yes,” he blurted. “I mean that is, if you want.”

“I do want.” Tony reached out and cautiously squeezed his hand, and Bruce literally felt sparks.

“Well. Okay then.” Later, he’d come to realize that moment was the first time in several long years that he’d sported a toothy, full-on, ear-to-ear grin.

***

**Darcy Stark, Age 19**

**Day 1895**  

_This may be my last entry; I’m too busy in my second college semester to journal much, but I had to say something today: Natasha and I are sisters! As of Today, Dad and Doctor Banner - I guess I should say step-dad now - made honest men out of each other. Who knew one little website could bring these two Oscar and Felix’s together. I guess I shouldn’t say that. It seemed like it in the beginning, but they do share a lot in common. Least of which is their sappy lovesick glances. I PRAY when I get married I don’t look like those two seals wrestling a grape (as Uncle Rhodey said - he gave Dad away, if you can believe it, while Mom took the task of walking him down the aisle._

_The wedding was one of the weirdest ones I’ve ever seen (they quoted Star Trek and Star Wars to each other during the vows!!!) but I’m honestly happy for them. They truly deserve one another. Plus, now Natasha and I have an excuse to visit each other since we;re going to school on opposite ends of the coast._

_It’s been a wild ride, diary. But I don’t think I would’ve had it any other way._


End file.
